Originally, Shirakawa had planned to leave that very afternoon, but Rayleigh had stubbornly dragged it out until the following morning. The two of them had spent the entire night drinking—Rayleigh holding him there, pouring out one thing after another.
Most of it was about things to watch out for on the seas. He also told Shirakawa about some of the more dangerous figures currently roaming the ocean, warning him that if he encountered any of them with his current strength, he would absolutely stand no chance—his first and only move should be to flee.
Shirakawa etched every one of those names Rayleigh mentioned into his memory. Some were already renowned powerhouses of the sea, while others were names Shirakawa had never even heard before.
Those were likely strong individuals who had been active during Roger's era. The ones Shirakawa didn't recognize had probably long since gone into seclusion by the time he set sail.
Though Shirakawa doubted he would ever run into them, it never hurt to be cautious.
Early the next morning, before Rayleigh had even stirred awake, Shirakawa had already taken his leave. But the moment Shirakawa's foot crossed the tavern's threshold, Rayleigh, lying inside, opened his eyes.
"The stage, in the end, belongs to these youngsters," Rayleigh murmured softly.
Though the old man felt a deep reluctance to part ways—had he spoken up and asked Shirakawa to stay, Shirakawa would certainly have remained to keep him company for a few more days—Rayleigh chose not to. He didn't want to hold Shirakawa back.
The wings had grown strong now. This was no longer a child who needed sheltering beneath their feathers.
"What, still can't bear it? If you can't let go, you could always chase after him, you know. Join his pirate crew—Shirakawa might even be thrilled about it."
"Heh." Rayleigh let out a wry laugh.
"Stop teasing me. I only just managed to retire from the seas. I have no desire to step onto that stage again."
Rayleigh meant every word. His journey as a pirate was already complete. He had set out from the East Blue, conquered the Grand Line, and laid eyes upon the great treasure. He had experienced everything every pirate dreams of experiencing—what more was there to linger for?
"That said, what exactly is the One Piece? I've been asking you for all this time—are you still not going to tell me?"
Shakky exhaled a thick plume of smoke and directed the question at Rayleigh.
"I've told you already. The One Piece isn't something that can be described in words. You have to witness it with your own eyes."
"Then take me to see it."
Truth be told, there wasn't a single pirate alive who had no interest in the One Piece, and Shakky was certainly no exception. She, too, was brimming with curiosity about the great treasure.
"That's impossible." Rayleigh shook his head with a rueful smile.
"Why not?" Shakky asked, puzzled.
"Because I can no longer find the way to Laugh Tale."
Though Rayleigh's tone sounded almost casual, a trace of regret was unmistakably woven into it.
"You didn't record it with an Eternal Pose?"
Shakky pressed further. She knew well enough that Laugh Tale wasn't easily found, but if they had recorded it with an Eternal Pose, locating it again should have been simple enough.
"Of course. Some of the crew did use a Log Pose to record Laugh Tale's location."
"And the Eternal Pose?" Shakky's voice rose with excitement.
"Roger found it and tossed it into the sea. If that Eternal Pose was lucky, someone somewhere might have picked it up. If not, it's probably lying at the bottom of the ocean forever, never to see the light of day again."
"I see." Shakky's voice trailed off, disappointed. She didn't think Rayleigh would lie to her—not for any particular reason, but simply because of the trust she placed in him.
After leaving the Sabaody Archipelago, Shirakawa flew at full speed in the direction indicated by Morgans' Eternal Pose. Sure enough, just over an hour later, the target island came into view.
And he saw the tree at the island's center—the Treasure Tree Adam. It was simply too conspicuous to miss.
The other trees on this island averaged around fifteen meters tall, but the Treasure Tree Adam at the center stood a full thirty meters high.
Morgans had also mentioned that the largest tree on the island was the Treasure Tree Adam, so Shirakawa was certain that this towering tree was the one he was looking for.
He didn't land directly beside the Adam right away, because he spotted several people performing prostrating worship before the tree, with offerings of wild boar meat and other tributes laid out in front of it.
One of them was muttering something under his breath, though Shirakawa paid it no mind.
After some time had passed and all these people had departed, Shirakawa finally descended next to the Treasure Tree Adam. He reached out and rapped his knuckles against its thick trunk.
"As expected of Adam—this bark really is incredibly hard."
Even the sensation against his hand felt entirely different from an ordinary tree. A normal tree, struck the way Shirakawa had just done, would absolutely have been left with a handprint. Yet the trunk of the Adam bore not a single mark.
Just then, Shirakawa seemed to sense something. A sharp whistle of displaced air sliced past his ear—he reached behind him and caught an arrow in his grip.
"Who are you?! Get away from the Ancestor Tree, now!"
A shout rang out from behind him. It was clearly one of the island's natives, and "Ancestor Tree" was most likely what they called the Adam.
Shirakawa turned around slowly and saw a young man in his mid-twenties, bow in hand, watching him with guarded, alert eyes.
The man already had another arrow nocked on his bowstring, and the arrowhead had turned black—a clear sign that he had mastered Armament Haki.
Perhaps the way Shirakawa had caught that arrow had made him sense a hint of danger.
"Calm down. I was simply passing by and happened to notice how unusual this tree is, so I came to take a look."
Shirakawa offered an explanation—though, of course, he didn't tell the truth.
Had he admitted he had designs on the tree, the man would undoubtedly have loosed another arrow at him without a second thought.
Shirakawa slowly stepped away from the Adam, and the arrowhead tracked his every movement.
"Satisfied now?"
By this point, Shirakawa was standing over thirty meters away from the Adam. Once the man saw the distance and confirmed that Shirakawa posed no immediate threat to the Ancestor Tree, he finally lowered the arrow and relaxed his bow.
"Leave this place at once. Outsiders are not welcome here."
Even with the bow lowered, his voice remained severe, and the way he looked at Shirakawa was still heavy with wariness.
"All right."
With those two words spoken, Shirakawa flew off directly. But he didn't actually leave—he simply ascended to a point high above the Adam, at a height where ordinary eyes could no longer make him out.
He wanted to see for himself just how important this tree truly was to the people of this island.
Down below, the man glanced up at the sky. After confirming that Shirakawa was nowhere in sight, he turned to leave—though he couldn't help glancing back every few steps. It was obvious he was deeply uneasy about the Ancestor Tree's safety.
And so Shirakawa stayed and observed for three full days. Every morning and every evening, he watched these people perform ritual worship before the Adam.
"You've got to be kidding me. This tree means that much to them?"
Shirakawa muttered in astonishment. It felt as though the people here treated the Adam with even greater devotion than their own flesh and blood.
And at all hours of the day, someone was always standing guard around it.
/-\
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